


beyond the sea

by timeinthetardis



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Enchanted Forest, Alternate Universe - No Curse, Captain Swan - Freeform, F/M, Gen, Lieutenant Duckling, everyone is a pirate, there will be more ships but I'll add them as they appear!, yes both
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 08:38:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5779018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timeinthetardis/pseuds/timeinthetardis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“No,” Emma snaps, voice low. “You are the vilest of men, and cannot be trusted. You will remain in the brig until I have decided what I would like to do with you.”</p><p>“The <i>vilest</i> of men,” he repeats. He lingers over the words, considering them. “What have I done to deserve such a title, while my bloodthirsty crew receives a reprieve?”</p><p>“I had planned to set you free,” she admits. “You may be a pirate, but your reputation also paints you as a man of honor. I had no wish to kill you, if I found that to be true.”</p><p>“But you haven't,” the pirate says, keeping his gaze on the floor. “And what is it that I've done to receive this judgement?”</p><p>“You killed the man I loved.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	beyond the sea

Her plan works like a dream.

It's true, Emma's stacked the deck in her favor- she's fairly certain that between her magic, Belle's research, Melody's combat training, and Elsa's powers, there isn't a crew in any realm that could handle them- but all's fair in love and war, after all, and she desperately needs this ship. She's heard about the _Jolly Roger_ in every tavern between Misthaven and Agrabah, about her speed, about the magic soaked into her boards, about the sails that can bring her into the sky. Emma doubts that last bit, in spite of how often she's heard it, but it hardly matters. More than flight, she needs speed, and the weapons allegedly hidden aboard the ship.  

It's her best chance.

Which is why she's standing in the Captain's quarters, soaked to the skin from their battle in the rain, while Belle makes her report about the men they've lashed to the mast.

“They could be useful,” Belle points out. “They're used to this ship, and we could use the manpower.”

Emma hums noncommittally, studying the papers spread out across the desk under the window. “If they can be trusted, perhaps.”

“Plenty of weapons,” Elsa calls down the ladder, climbing into the gloom. “We've found their stash and taken their personals. There's more than enough for all of us, even once we meet up with everyone else.”

“And gold?” Emma asks, raising an eyebrow.

Elsa grins. “You'd better believe it.”

“Good,” Emma says, smiling back at her friend. “We're going to need that. Belle, can you go make a record of the treasure they've got on board? The usual- gold, jewels, anything we can use as a bribe, but keep an eye out for the cuffs as well.” Belle nods, tucking her notebook into an interior pocket of her tunic as she disappears up the ladder. “Elsa, what's the crew saying?”

“The same thing they always do,” Elsa smirks, twisting rainwater out of her braid. “Can't believe they were taken down by a bunch of ladies, won't give their allegiance to anyone but their sworn captain, promising us the world if we'll just free them.”

Emma snorts, rolling her eyes, and drops into the chair behind the desk. “And the Captain?”

“Won't stop trying to flirt with everyone. Oh, and he has a hook for a hand, just like they say. Want me to bring him down?”

“Might as well,” she says, and Elsa disappears back up to the deck. Emma can hear Belle shouting something at the crew, her voice nearly overwhelmed by a loud crash of thunder, and smiles to herself. Fearsome as the pirates may think themselves- and she knows they have a long and bloody history to back up their reputation- she highly doubts any of them will dare to pull anything while guarded by an extremely irritated, armed, and _soaked_ Belle. She’d been a maid for the Dark One before he vanished, and while she preferred reading to fighting, she had a vicious streak that made her one of the fiercest members of Emma’s crew.

Emma gets up out of the chair, eyes falling again on the papers across the desk. The captain's quarters are far more organized than she'd expected them to be, clean in a way she associates with the military officers she'd encountered in the time _before_. Every floorboard and windowpane has been scrubbed to a shine, the solitary bunk has been carefully made, and she can't find a single mote of dust anywhere. The only exception to this orderly little world is the desk, covered with maps of strange realms, journals with ragged corners, and stacks of ink-blotted papers.

Opening a drawer at random, she pulls out a tattered book of star charts, a sketch of the ship, and a strip of bright red ribbon. She tugs at the ribbon, which reveals itself to be tied around a neat stack of letters, some beginning to yellow with age. From a sweetheart, no doubt; as odd as she finds the concept of a fearsome pirate captain sitting down to re-read letters from his lover back home, she has to admit that she hasn't met enough pirates to know if it's actually strange. Smiling to herself, she pulls out a letter at random and unfolds it.

The ship shifts under her feet.

“Hey, Swan?” At the sound of Elsa's voice from the top of the ladder, Emma drops the letter. She knows the captain must be standing there- Elsa insists on using their real names unless it's dangerous to do so- but wishes she didn't have to respond, that she could spend just a bit longer poking around before she has to deal with this man.

“Bring him down,” she calls back, turning to stare out of the window as Elsa climbs down. She hears the heavy thud of boots against the wood, followed by two pairs of lighter footsteps.

“On your knees for the Captain,” Elsa snaps.

“With pleasure,” the man says. “Perhaps for you as well, my lady?”

Something about his voice makes the hair on Emma's neck stand on end. He sounds like-

_No._

“Down, boy,” Melody says, a hint of amusement in her voice as she snaps a pair of shackles back around his wrists. “Swan, he's set. Do you want us to stay?”

Emma turns around, raising an eyebrow at the scene in front of her. A man kneels on the floor in the middle of the room, arms shackled behind him and his head down. She can't make out any details of his face, the angle of his head allowing his fringe of dark hair to hide his features from view. Melody and Elsa stand on either side of the prisoner, Melody smirking slightly while Elsa frowns in irritation, a small flurry of snowflakes circling the cabin.

“No, that won't be necessary,” she says at last. “I'll take it from here.”

“Typical,” Melody snorts, dropping the key to the shackles into Emma's outstretched hand. She winks at her friend as she swings back onto the ladder. “Call if you need us, yeah?”

“Of course.” Emma nods reassuringly to Elsa, who hesitates with one foot on the lowest rung before climbing out of sight.

Emma tucks the key into her pocket and waits for a few long moments, letting silence settle over the cabin once again. Walking around to the front of the desk, she leans back against it, crossing her arms as she studies the man in front of her. He doesn't move, but she hears him chuckle under his breath, the faint sound ringing like thunder in the quiet room.

A hot rush of anger fills her stomach. How dare this man- this man, who could have destroyed her chances, who fought her women tooth and nail, who could be waiting for his death sentence- how _dare_ he laugh at her?

“Your crew has been ousted, and your services as Captain are no longer needed,” she says, forcing herself to keep her voice cool and detached. “I will be taking the ship for myself, as well as any treasure I deem useful. If your men will pledge an oath to me, they may stay on with my crew. If not, they will be left at the next port. Any insubordination will result in a swift execution.”

“A pretty plan,” the man says. “Might I ask what fate awaits me, my lady? Am I to join the ranks of your traveling circus, as well?”

“No,” she snaps, voice low. “You are the vilest of men, and cannot be trusted. You will remain in the brig until I have decided what I would like to do with you.”

“The _vilest_ of men,” he repeats. He lingers over the words, considering them. “What have I done to deserve such a title, while my bloodthirsty crew receives a reprieve?”

“I had planned to set you free,” she admits. “You may be a pirate, but your reputation also paints you as a man of honor. I had no wish to kill you, if I found that to be true.”

“But you haven't,” the pirate says, keeping his gaze on the floor. “And what is it that I've done to receive this judgement?”

“You killed the man I loved.”

Silence stretches over them, the atmosphere suddenly electric.

“Occupational hazard, that,” he says at last. “How are you so certain that _I_ killed him? I've killed many men, I'll grant you, but-”

“You have his letters,” she snaps. “The letters I sent to him, the letters he kept close to his heart. I heard that he was killed by a pirate, but not which one. What good fortune to have stumbled upon you.”

“I think you’re confused, Lady Bloodthirsty. The only letters I possess are my own.”

“Not these,” she hisses, reaching behind her for the letter she'd dropped on the desk. She slides it across the floor to him with her boot. “Here. One of the letters from your drawer. Quite a prize, aren't they, love letters from a princess? No doubt you thought you could use them for blackmail.” She laughs, the joyless sound catching in her chest. “I'm sorry to tell you that you won't get very far with those. Misthaven was captured by the Evil Queen quite a while ago, and-”

“I’m well aware of the worth of the letters,” the pirate says dully, his theatrical flair fading for a moment. “But I must say, if those are from the man you loved, you’re better off without him. He was quite gone on- on _her_.”

“How dare you.” The words edge through her teeth, low and sharp. “He was a far better man than you could ever hope to be, and he loved me far more than I deserved. He tried to save me- he-” Emma cuts herself off, bringing a hand to her cheek and furiously wiping away a tear. Stepping away from the desk, she goes back around to the window, wrapping her arms around herself and staring out at the sea.

“It's not possible,” he breathes. “I don’t- you’re not-”

She's not entirely sure what she'd expected him to say- perhaps some sort of plea for his life, or a stubborn, pirate-y comment that would make her want to run him through and have done with it- but it definitely wasn't this hesitant stutter of anger and hope.

“Excuse me?” Emma snaps, not turning around. “What was that?”

“You can’t be who I think you are,” he says slowly, each syllable crackling with rage. “She’s dead.”

“I’m a ghost, myself. We’re more common than you might think.” Shaking her head, she watches his reflection in the window, distorted by the glass but clear enough to satisfy her desire to never leave her back open to an enemy. “But if you’re thinking of the Princess- you’re right, I’m not her. She's gone.”

“Gone,” he echoes, shifting slightly on his knees. Emma lets her hand drift to the sword at her waist but otherwise remains still. “That’s an interesting word to choose.”

“Is it? It seems fairly definitive to me,” she says airily.

“Well, no. ‘Dead’ only means one thing, but ‘gone’- that can be taken any number of ways.”

“And who cares about that?” she asks, turning to peruse the letters still stacked on the desk. “The girl in these letters- she doesn’t exist, not anymore.”

“ _I_ care,” he says, voice low. “Love, I-”

“You’ll address me as Captain Swan, not _love_ ,” Emma snaps, ignoring the way the rumble of his voice sends goosebumps across her skin. She knows better, she does, there's absolutely _no way_ -

“Emma.” It’s quiet, barely more than a whisper. “Please.”

Slowly, she looks up, letting her hand fall from her sword as her gaze lands on the pirate. He looks back up at her, shaking his hair out of his eyes, and he _smiles._

“Killian?”

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to stay updated on my writing (or join the fun of constant CS blogging), please feel free to check out my [tumblr](http://in-each-place-and-forever.tumblr.com) and/or my [writing tumblr](http://distinct-elements-of-speech.tumblr.com/).


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